


will these hands never be clean?

by demonicneonfishy



Series: february angst-fest (febuwhump 2021) [17]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Blood and Injury, M/M, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Needs a Hug, a lot of it, i use that tag a worrying amount
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29518464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonicneonfishy/pseuds/demonicneonfishy
Summary: They have dealt with blood before. This is no different. This should be no different.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: february angst-fest (febuwhump 2021) [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141784
Comments: 1
Kudos: 90





	will these hands never be clean?

**Author's Note:**

> day 17 of febuwhump 2021  
> prompt: field surgery

His hands are so often covered in blood these days.

But not because he is fighting: because he is trying to save as many people as he can, and yet he cannot save everyone. And their blood stains his hands.

He was born in a time when war was swords and shields and crossbows. He is still struggling to understand this, the guns and cannons and gas, so much more effective at dealing death than anything he had ever known before.

“Nicky!” someone yells, startling him out of his thoughts. “Gunshot wound.”

_ Right _ . He has a job to do.

It’s a bullet to the shoulder, nothing he hasn’t handled before. Both in terms of treating them and having one himself. The soldier they bring him is young, his features contorted in pain.

He has done this a thousand times before. He gives the boy a towel to bite down on and busies himself with removing the bullet from his shoulder.

It’s as if he’s watching from the doorway. He knows he’s the one doing it, and yet… he is disconnected, somehow. 

The next one they bring him has a bullet in his leg. The next, shrapnel buried in his arm.

The one after that is worse.

“What happened?” he asks as they haul him in. 

“Shell,” one of the soldiers with him says. 

The man on the stretcher is barely moving, his stomach torn open. There’s blood  _ everywhere _ : on the stretcher, on the man’s clothes, on the other soldiers’ hands.

“We need to stop the bleeding,” he says. “Get me bandages, a towel…”

Even as he says it, he knows there’s very little he can do. He tries anyway. He bandages the wound and yet the blood keeps coming, too much for him to stop.

The man tries to speak, choking on his own blood. 

Nicky takes his hand to offer what little comfort he can.  _ You are not alone _ .

He watches the light fade from the man’s eyes, and whispers a prayer over his body. Then he steps back and watches as they take the body away.

Then it is just him, lingering alone when everyone else has left.

All these injuries. Injuries he could take and come back from in seconds, that kill so many. He saves as many as he can and yet it is never enough. There is no pause, no relief, no respite.

He’s so tired. 

“Nico,” Joe says from the doorway. 

He looks up.

Joe is leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, looking at him. “Are you okay?”

He’s not sure he knows how to answer that question anymore. He’s not even sure what  _ okay _ means.

“I tried,” he whispers, looking down at his hands, stained with the man’s blood. “There was too much- I couldn’t-”

“Breathe,” Joe tells him, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “You did everything you could.”

“And it wasn’t  _ enough _ \- I-”

“Don’t. Don’t do that to yourself, Nico.”

Nicky tries to take a breath to steady himself, and can’t seem to get enough air into his lungs.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

He lets Joe lead him away, not registering his surroundings. His world narrows down to the feel of his hand in Joe’s and the exhaustion in his bones. Joe guides him into another room, over to a silver basin of water with a cloth beside it.

“Sit down and hold out your hands,” Joe tells him, and Nicky does.

Joe dips the cloth in the basin and begins to clean away the blood on Nicky’s hands. The water is cold, but Nicky doesn’t mind: there’s something grounding about it.

They get so few quiet moments now, surrounded by people as they are. Instead, they resign themselves to whispered words and casual touches that linger just a moment too long, and wait for the war to be over. 

“I was thinking about Malta again,” Joe says.

“Oh?” He tries to sound normal, and yet his voice is broken, hoarse. 

Joe looks up at him. “When all this is over,” he promises. “We could use a break.”

Nicky almost laughs at that. Yes, they could.

Joe continues to clean the blood away, staining the water and the cloth and his own hands red. So much red. He blinks, and it’s gone.

“Better?” Joe asks when it’s done.

Nicky nods, not trusting himself to speak.

Joe sets aside the cloth. “Are you okay?”

Nicky shakes his head. What would he say, anyway?

They have dealt with blood before. This is no different. This  _ should _ be no different.

Nicky blinks to try and stop his tears, and Joe reaches for him without a word, holding him close. Nicky rests his head on Joe’s shoulder, and tries to remember how to breathe normally. Imagines his lungs expanding as he inhales, contracting as he exhales, and it helps, a little. 

“I have you,” Joe says softly. “Just breathe.”

“I should be able to help them,” Nicky whispers. “But I can’t.”

“You can’t save everyone. I know you’re trying, but you can’t save everyone. That doesn’t mean you’re not doing enough.” Joe pulls back to look at him. “You’ve saved  _ so many _ , Nico. That’s not nothing.”

Nicky closes his eyes and leans forward to press their foreheads together. 

There will be more blood tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that.

But they will survive this, somehow.

**Author's Note:**

> yes the title is a macbeth quote. i was out of ideas and this is a fic basically about cleaning blood from your hands. what else was i supposed to do  
> -  
> i'm demonicneonfishy on tumblr too if you wanna come say hi!! (or yell at me for the angst)


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